


Echoes of the Past

by ProngsPotter22



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Death, Memories, Open to Interpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 17:45:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5975766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProngsPotter22/pseuds/ProngsPotter22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How could fate be so cruel to me? How could they take away the only people that ever mattered to me? The people I could not live without.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echoes of the Past

_Is this house even home anymore?_ I wonder as I gaze out the dusty attic windows. Children run down the streets in their tidy school uniforms, desperate to reach the bus stop on time. Adults stroll along the cracked footpaths toward the town centre for work. Houses line the street; some old, some new. Jacaranda trees dot the edges of the road; their bright coloured flower petals falling to the street like rain. Its truly a beautiful neighbourhood and yet the sight of it fills me with nothing but mourning for what used to be.

 

I can hear voices drifting up the rickety staircase like mist. A man’s boisterous laughter echoes around the house while the squeals of happy children ring around the room, bouncing off the old boxes and crates. A woman’s voice chimes cheerily from the kitchen, calling the family to grab their dinner before it gets cold.

 

I cringe. Not at the sounds of joyful chatter as footsteps pitter-patter down the halls but at the noises creeping underneath. The undercurrent of distressed cries that fall deaf on the ears of everyone in this house. Everyone except me.

 

I turn and walk down the steps in a desperate attempt to escape the keening wails, my footsteps so light that the dust still remains undisturbed beneath my feet. My white, silky dress billows behind me like a white shadow, a feather caught in the breeze. A lost soul drifting away into the darkest of nights.

 

I bypass the living room where the soft, unearthly glow of the television silhouettes four figures crowded on the ghastly, orange couch and the sickly aroma of too greasy food wafts through the archway. Instead I glide down the hallway, stopping to observe the walls. The small holes in the wood, which for years contained the nails that held family photos, were now hidden behind the sickly sweet floral wallpaper. The pictures of my smiling children and my husband, with that mischievous grin I adored so well, were gone and long forgotten; stuffed in ratty boxes with glass frames shattered.

 

I gritted my teeth. How I hated that wallpaper.

 

I stiffly swung round, positive that if I stood there any longer I would either tear at the walls like a wild animal or break down into a river of tears.

 

I glanced out the window instead. The old tyre swing that had once filled my babies with joy, as they would play for hours on end amongst the flowers, had long since disappeared. However, the echoes of children’s laughter still whispered amongst the willows. My gaze swept the property as countless memories swam before my eyes. Finally my sight fell on the very edge of the garden. I closed my sapphire eyes for I dare not stare beyond the broken beech wood fence that borders the property. Where now winds a gravel road was once a flowing river. Its churning black water, like an endless mass of shadows calling a sinister siren song; daring anyone to come to close. The young children’s cries seemed to get louder.

 

I shuddered and turn away from the window, unable to bear facing the past. When I turn I notice the family entering the hallway that was so very familiar and yet as foreign as could be. I quickly scurried into the lounge room, taking no notice in the tiny girl being carried in her mother’s arms, watching my every move with giggles of delight.

 

I stopped and stared around me before collapsing to my knees. It was too much to bear. I could see the laptop sitting on the desk where my grandmother’s lamp used to stand, the flat screen TV that covered the wall where the old brick fireplace once was and the fluffy carpet that covered the spot where my children had once drawn little pictures on the wooden floor. Memory after memory, ripped away by the cruel claws of time.

 

The florescent lights on the roof cast grotesque shadows off the china dolls and plush toys that littered the room here and there. The creeping figures seemed to drag me down further into the darkness of my own thoughts.

 

How could fate be so cruel to me? How could they take away the only people that ever mattered to me? The people I could not live without.

 

The walls were moving, bearing down on me like beasts. I needed to get out of there. I needed to get away from the people who now walked this house, to get away from the ever-constant reminders of all I had lost, away from my lonely existence.

 

I ran out the door, down the pebble path, past the pool and the willows, right up to the fence. I hadn’t realised just how far I had run until I stood beside the road. It had been so many years since I had left the property. So many years since I had left my old home. Not since the accident. Not since I lost everything.

 

I stared at the gravel with clouded eyes, seeing not what was but what used to be. Icy water, desperate screams, no air, my babies…. The images would not leave me alone. I gasped, as if I really were drowning. My whole body felt like lead. I could barely stand. I was clutching onto the edges of my sanity, sure that if just one more painful memory surfaced then I would finally lose hold on my mind.

 

I backed up; finally able to get a hold of myself just enough to turn my back on the street when a noise stopped me in my tracks.

 

I turn as I hear a strikingly familiar voice call my name and when I do, I collapse against the nearest tree. Standing there was my husband, outlined in a brilliant golden hue from the sun. Those grey eyes I fell in love with many years ago had turned molten silver by the light and his raven black hair was blowing softly with the breeze. He smiled at me and I felt my shattered heart mend, even if only a little.

 

I staggered weakly towards him, terrified that if I stood there too long he would disappear and my small chance of salvation would leave forever. However, when I stepped my tired legs gave out and I felt myself hurtling towards the unforgiving pavement. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the undoubtedly painful meeting with the footpath.

 

Except, I never reach it.

 

Two little hands had grabbed mine with strength that something so small shouldn’t possibly be able to have. They caught me and held me up. I looked towards my love and he just grinned fondly back. Finally I turned to see who was holding onto me so tightly, as if I were their lifeline itself.

 

Holding onto my hands were two people I had thought I would never see again and the sight of them immediately broke the wall around my heart I had worked so hard for years to build.

 

My son was grinning up at me with a shy, sweet smile. His flyaway blond hair was the perfect blend of his father’s and mine and his deep blue eyes were the spitting image of my own. My little girl, with her long midnight-black hair and soft grey eyes, giggled innocently up at me with the same cheeky grin as her father.

 

I could feel the tears sliding down my face as everything fell into place. To think that all this time they had been waiting for me to pluck up the courage to face my past. If I had just come outside to where the river once ran, to the place that it all ended and began, I would never have been alone for all these years.

 

As the sun sets and casts a marvellous array of colours across the darkening sky, I feel hope for the very first time since that fateful day my life ended. The two delicate hands squeeze mine as if to assure me that everything indeed was going to be okay. We walk together towards my husband and finally I am whole once more. Turning, we drift into the light of the setting sun, just as the first stars appear, and then as one we are gone. We are home.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story was written for a school assignment a while ago. My teacher at the time said it was very good so I thought I might as well post it here and see what you all think. It was written for our concept study of belonging. Its mostly open to interpretation in regard as to what happened to the characters but feel free to ask me if you really want me to tell you what actually happened. Feedback is appreciated but please no flames.


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